Sally Ride

So yesterday was the inspection on the new house. All went well, except for a mysteriously steel-wrapped door and some wood rot. Nothing too major. Mainly I'm just curious about the wrapping of the door; it looks like a hot burrito but flatter and more angular.

The first time I saw the house I deduced from the torn up chair backs that there was a cat in residence. This was confirmed yesterday by the presence of the cat. I dislike cats, generally, so I did not engage. My sister, however, is a cat lover and got to being friendly right away. So this cat was thinking that I would also be an ally. It (well, him or her, I guess, but let's just go with it) came over to me and looked up at me in a plea for attention. I did not cave, because I dislike cats and do not want to pet them. Also, they are confusing and snotty. It persisted. I continued to observe its efforts dispassionately. As it walked away in defeat, I noticed that it seemed to have less than the expected four legs. I pointed this out to my sister. We came up with a lot of gruesome scenarios in which the cat was rendered a tripod. But then it lay down and we noticed that it was more of a premature cat leg termination, like a congenital unformed leg. Less of an amputation, more like a thalidomide cat. Usually I don't find handicaps or medical conditions funny, except for the really funny ones, but I dislike cats and also there's no way for a cat to be aware of its 75% allowable legs situation. And this cat was clearly able to perform its activities of daily living without hindrance because the furniture was all scratched up and that's pretty much the only thing cats do besides commune with Satan. So all in all I felt pretty comfortable with deriving some humor at the cat's expense. There's a lot to be said for finding hilarity in the face of adversity. In my opinion that's a life skill at least as important as finding compassion for a 25% less legs than most cats cat.